Page 75 of We Met Like This
“It needs to be messy, though,” I said. “Like two people just rolled around in it.” I approached the bed and climbed on.
If I thought his house smelled good, his bed enveloped me in a scent that was both him and somehow more as I crawled across it. I flung myself onto his pillows on my back, arms stretched wide. My socked feet pedaled up and down. It was in that moment that my brain caught up with me: I had just climbed onto his bed.
“I’m sorry,” I said, pointing to the bed. “May I?”
He laughed. “Pretty sure you already did.”
I propped myself up on my elbows to see that he’d positioned himself at the foot of the bed. “Want to help me mess this up?”
“Margot, I…”
“With all our clothes on,friend. Where did your mind go?”
“You’re in my bed. You know where it went.”
The air was sucked from my lungs as my heart raced to life. He was having impure thoughts as well. That meant this whole “slow down” thing was hard for him too.
I cleared my throat. “I just meant mess it up with your hands. Like this…” I moved to my knees and peeled back his comforter. “I’m guessing you have hotel corners and everything under here.”
He stretched over and tugged at one of the bottom corners, freeing it. I used the opportunity to grab hold of the edge of the blanket and roll myself up like a burrito.
“Is that how you do things in bed?” he asked.
My elbows were pinned to my sides, my hands holding the top of the blanket under my chin. “Thisisn’thow you do things in bed?” If I kept rolling, I’d deposit myself onto the ground. But just as I went to unroll myself, he rounded the bed and sat down, blocking me in.
“Are you stuck?” he asked in a fake innocent voice.
“You know I am.”
He lifted his hands like he was going to free me, then paused and asked, “Are you ticklish?”
“Don’t you dare.”
“Is that a yes or a no?” His hands moved along my sides.
I squealed and made several empty threats about taking him down.
He stopped and brushed a piece of hair off my forehead. Then he studied my face. I wasn’t sure what he saw there, but he met my eyes with an intensity I’d seen before. An ache settled between my legs and I swallowed hard. Then, as if I were made of fire, he yanked his hand away and stood. “We’d better get some pictures. It’s getting late.”
I nodded but didn’t move. The thought of him stretched out beside me, pressed up against me, flashed through my mind. We could keep all our clothes on, I just wanted to lay here in his arms, in his scent, in his life.
“Are you still stuck?” he asked. “Do I need to unroll you?”
I avoided his gaze, worried he’d be able to read all my thoughts. Or maybe I was worried he wouldn’t be able to. “Yes, please,” I said, even though I didn’t need his help. I just knew this might be the only opportunity to feel his hands on me again.
He leaned over, grabbed me by the waist, and pulled. I flopped onto my stomach with an unflattering “Oof.”
He chuckled, then flipped me again. I was able to free my arms and sit up. He took in the bed as I climbed out of it.
“Huh,” he said. “I mocked you for the execution but that actually worked. It looks like two peopleusedthis bed.”
I laughed, then whispered, “Has it been awhile since it’s seen that much action?”
I had been joking, but he said, “Yes, actually.”
And because I was nosy, I asked, “Why?”
“Like I said before, I’m kind of over meaningless hookups. I want more.”
